


That's Commitment

by Songbird321



Series: DWS Universe [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, DWS Universe, Fluff and Good Times, Hot Swimmer Boyfriends, Ice Cream, M/M, Squad Sarcasm, Supportive Boyfriends in the Stands, cute couple stuff, side pairings, swim meets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10047815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbird321/pseuds/Songbird321
Summary: “Is there anything you can’t do?” Reiner asked, staring up at Bertholdt with unrestrained amazement. He squeezed the brunette’s hands to get him to look at him.Bertholdt’s gaze locked with Reiner’s as the taller boy’s face wrinkled with a nervous bashfulness the blonde was all too used to. “Of course, there’s a lot of things I’m not good at…”Reiner squeezed Bertholdt’s hands again. “And we’ve learned that taking a compliment is one of them.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for giving this story a look! This is a continuation piece to my fic Dancing With Strangers. You don't have to have read DWS to read this, all you need to know is that DWS is a reincarnation AU in which some people come back as Blanks who don't remember their past lives, but that doesn't stop love from finding a way to work. This takes place about a month or so after DWS ends (if we forget about the epilogue.)
> 
> Also, I am still working on DWS expansion sequels about the other couples. They're just taking a lot of time. But there is a hint to one in this fic if you squint really hard. ;)

“Reiner, I can’t do this,” Marco whined, his hands squeezing Reiner’s arm a little too tightly. The blonde snickered, prying Marco’s fingers away. 

“I believe in you,” he replied. 

Marco groaned, running his hands down his face. “God help me.”

Reiner laughed, shaking his head as he focused his attention back at the pool below. The final heat of male breaststroke swimmers was mounting the blocks. In lane four was Jean Kirschtein, one of St. Maria Academy’s fastest breaststroke swimmers, (really one of their fastest overall.) He stood tall, proud, and shirtless, pulling his goggles down over his eyes and shaking out his toned arms to loosen them up. Reiner could definitely see why Marco was having such a hard time: swimmers tended to have god-like bodies, and Jean was most definitely not an exception. 

The crowd grew quiet as the official blew his whistle. The swimmers stood at attention. “Take your mark.” The swimmers crouched on the blocks, fingers gripping the edge of the block in preparation to propel them into the water. Marco bit his lip. Reiner felt his heart beat quicken, as if he were the one racing in a matter of seconds. Secondhand adrenaline, he assumed. He’s been feeling it all night while watching every race a certain significant someone had participated in…

A loud beep sounded and the cheering resumed full force as the swimmers dove into the water. 

“COME ON JEAN!” Marco shouted, sliding forward to the edge of his seat. Reiner laughed again and added in his own cheers as Jean’s head appeared at the front of the line. Did it feel weird to be cheering for someone on the other team? Yes. But was it worth it? Absolutely. 

Marco couldn’t decide whether to sit or stand, and continued to switch between the two positions throughout the race. He had his fists clenched so tight, his knuckles were turning white. Jean remained in the lead, but by a very narrow margin, so Reiner couldn’t exactly call him out for stressing. In the end, though, Jean pulled a victory by .4 seconds. 

“YEAH! THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!” Marco cheered, jumping out of his seat and laughing with glee. Reiner laughed as the brunette settled back into his seat, smiling gleefully. “Oh, I like this.” 

“Really? I never would’ve guessed…”

Reiner chuckled again as Marco slapped his arm. “Oh save it. Like you were any better during the 100 meter butterfly.” 

The blonde boy shrugged. “Fair point.” 

The official blew his whistle again as the swimmers got out of the pool and were ushered off the pool deck, (Marco’s eyes followed Jean’s back the whole time.) The last event of the night began, the 400 meter freestyle relay, a race both Jean and Bertholdt would be participating in when the time came. Reiner and Marco had a few minutes to prepare while the girl’s team swam, (which neither one was particularly worried about, considering the Trost High women’s swim team was the best in the state and were easily beating St. Maria’s.) The two passed the team by idly watching the girls, cheering when necessary. Reiner thought one of the Maria girls looked surprisingly familiar, but with the swim cap hiding her hair, he couldn’t say for sure if it was who he thought it was. He decided to forget about it for the time being. 

As soon as the girls’ race ended and the row of guys started coming forward, Reiner’s spine straightened to attention. His eyes roamed the pool deck, on the lookout for a head of dark hair sitting on top of a gorgeously tall body. 

And then he saw him. Reiner smiled as he watched Bertholdt getting hyped with his teammates. His smile warmed as he watched their team handshake, watched them all take turns pulling swim caps over each others’ heads, watched them all line up behind the block. Bertholdt was the last of the four, which, Marco had told him, was the spot reserved for the fastest swimmer in the relay. Reiner felt a warm jolt of pride stab through his chest for his boyfriend. 

In the meantime, though, Eren Jaeger was stepping up to the block first for Trost, going head to head with Jean. The fact that they were facing each other was almost uncanny, or at least it would have been if the two boys on the blocks had any recollection of one another. They used to be the most bitter of rivals in all aspects of their lives. Now, they were just blips on each other’s radar of potential competition. It was almost sad. 

But not completely, as the two boys were still shooting jeering remarks at each other despite being complete strangers, (and having their menacing side glares rendered useless by goggle lines.) 

The official blew his whistle, and the crowd fell silent again. 

“Swimmers ready. Take your mark.”

_BEEP!_

Jean and Eren launched themselves into the water, disappearing beneath the surface for a little more than a quarter’s length of the pool before reappearing again, both in a fast freestyle. 

“Jean’s winning,” Marco said seriously, perched on the edge of his seat. “Not by much but he’s ahead.”

“How long do they each have to swim for this?” Reiner asked, his eyes glued to the swimmers, (damn, they were fast.)

“100 meters,” Marco answered. “Which are four pool lengths.” 

“I know.”

“Just checking.” 

Jean and Eren hit the wall with fast flip turns at nearly the same time. Reiner’s chest started to feel tight with anxiety, secondhand adrenaline pumping again. As much as he liked Jean, he really wanted Eren to pull ahead. 

But he didn’t. Jean remained a hair’s breadth ahead of Eren for all 100 meters, hitting the wall .2 seconds before the brunette. As Marco cheered louder than the entire St. Maria team, the second swimmers dove in and took off like jet streams while the first two struggled to catch their breath. Reiner watched one of Jean’s teammates help pull him from the water, the fair-haired boy’s arms shaking too badly for him to get out alone. 

“Those flip turns are hardcore,” Reiner commented as his eyes turned back to the race. The seconds were still frustratingly tied. 

“Seriously,” Marco replied, shaking his head as his eyes moved back and forth between Jean and the race. “Swimming is a hardcore sport.”

“No kidding,” Reiner said, shaking his head too. The seconds’ race came to an end, and the third swimmers, (Franz for Trost,) dove in. Maria’s second had also beaten Trost’s, but only by .1 seconds this time. There was still time to take the race. 

And Franz seemed to know that. Reiner began tapping his foot to release some of the nervous energy as the brunette pulled an arm’s length ahead of Maria’s third after the first flip turn. And then another arm’s length after the second flip turn. Reiner’s eyes slipped over to the block after the third turn. Bertholdt was on the block, goggles on, arms braced in front of him, ready for action. The blonde felt a smile spreading on his lips. 

But his smile only lasted as long as it took for Franz to touch the wall .2 seconds before Maria’s third. Bertholdt took off as if he were being shot from a canon. Reiner slid to the edge of his seat, watching the water anxiously until Bertholdt appeared again, a little over a quarter of the way, in a terrifyingly fast and clean freestyle. He was an arm’s length ahead of Maria’s fourth before they hit the first turn, and had doubled it after the turn. 

Reiner marveled at the way Bertholdt was able to propel himself through the water so fast. He found himself screaming “COME ON, BERT!” as loud as he could, even though he knew Bertholdt couldn’t hear him from here. The blonde felt his whole body tensing with adrenaline as the cheers around him intensified. Maria’s fourth was keeping up with Bertholdt, a little too close for comfort. But his stroke, while just as fast, wasn’t as precise as Bertl’s, as far as Reiner could tell. Maria’s fourth lacked the natural grace of Bertholdt’s stroke: the sharp movements of his arms, the powerful kicking, the super efficient turns. 

And the invisible jet pack Bertholdt must have had strapped to his back. After the third turn, something clicked, and the brunette took off in an all out sprint. He was a body’s length ahead of Maria’s fourth by the halfway mark, and hit the wall a full .7 seconds before him. The crowd went wild with a mix of cheers and jeers. Reiner jumped to his feet, cheering as loud as he could as he watched the relay team below being to jump for joy. Franz helped Bertholdt out of the water and immediately pulled him into a group hug. The brunette was shaking terribly, but there was no denying how happy he was, his smile visible from the bleachers. 

“We gotta get down there,” Reiner said, eyes glued to his champion of a boyfriend. 

“Nah, we’re meeting them at Rosie’s,” Marco said in reply with a sly smile. “Besides, they wouldn’t want us there right now. They’re with their swimming friends.” 

Reiner laughed. “And the last thing we want to do is separate them from their swimming friends. No embarrassing boyfriends allowed. I get it.” Marco laughed, shaking his head as he reached for his jacket on the seat behind him. “How are you feeling right now?” 

Marco shrugged. “I mean, I’m happy that we won, but I have to mentally prepare myself to complain about it later.” 

Reiner put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re so brave.” Marco shrugged him off with another laugh. 

***

Rosie’s ice cream shop was a lot more crowded than Reiner had anticipated it would be on a Thursday night. The line at the counter stretched all the way to the door, and people seemed to have taken over every table. 

“Oh boy,” Marco whispered beside him, sucking in a breath as his eyes roamed the store. “Maybe we should change locations…”

“Marco! Reiner!” 

Both boys’ eyes shot to the left where Sasha was waving them over to a table for eight, stealthily saved by the brunette, along with Connie, Ymir, and Christa. 

“You guys are life savers,” Marco sighed as he and Reiner approached the table and sat down. 

“Don’t mention it,” Connie said with a wink. “How was the swim meet?”

“Stressful,” Reiner said after exchanging a glance with Marco. “Those races can really get your heart pounding.”

“What do you mean?” Christa asked curiously.

“You really want your team to win, and you have zero control in making it happen,” Marco clarified as he pulled out a chair and sat down. “But man, was it fun to watch.”

“How’d the boys do?” Sasha asked. 

“Jean won his 500 meter freestyle and the breaststroke,” Marco answered proudly, brown eyes sliding to Reiner to finish it off. 

“And Bertholdt won the IM and the butterfly, and both of his relay teams won,” the blonde said with a proud shrug of his shoulders. 

“Holy cow, are you two dating mermen?” Sasha exclaimed. “How are they so good?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Marco said, holding up his hands in defeat. 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure Bertl has gills,” Reiner said in reply. “I can’t really speak for Jean though…”

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen gills on both of them,” Ymir added, nodding in agreement. 

“Well, why don’t you just ask them now,” Connie suggested, pointing to the door where Jean and Bertholdt had just entered, and were currently looking around at the crowd of people with panic written clearly on their faces. “Jean! Bertholdt!” he screamed, hands cupped around his mouth to project the sound. Both boys looked over with relief in their eyes, and moved towards the table. Reiner and Marco both stood, as if on cue. 

A child-like smile spread across Bertholdt’s face as he got closer, and Reiner raced towards him, enveloping him in a tight hug. He felt Bertholdt’s chest vibrate as he laughed, long arms wrapping around Reiner’s shoulders. 

“You made it!” the brunette said, his words muffled into Reiner’s collarbone. 

“Of course I made it,” Reiner replied, squeezing his boyfriend tight. “You came to so many of my games, it’s only fair…”

“But football’s a lot more enjoyable to watch than swimming,” Bertholdt argued lightly as he pulled away from the embrace so that their eyes could meet. His hair was still a bit damp, hanging heavy on his forehead. 

“Are you kidding? I was on the edge of my seat the whole time!” Reiner exclaimed, grabbing Bertholdt’s hands and holding tight. “Congratulations on your win, by the way. Or should I say wins?”

“Thanks.” Bertholdt smiled again. “I’m glad we didn’t disappoint.”

“Are you kidding? You were fantastic,” Reiner said. “I mean, I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were _that_ good.” Bertholdt’s cheeks started to go red. “Seriously, you were a beast out there.”

“Thanks, Reiner,” the brunette said, his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Reiner asked, staring up at Bertholdt with unrestrained amazement. He squeezed the brunette’s hands to get him to look at him. 

Bertholdt’s gaze locked with Reiner’s as the taller boy’s face wrinkled with a nervous bashfulness the blonde was all too used to. “Of course, there’s a lot of things I’m not good at…”

Reiner squeezed Bertholdt’s hands again. “And we’ve learned that taking a compliment is one of them.” Bertholdt’s expression melted into an easy smile. “So why don’t we sit down and get some ice cream before I cause you to self-destruct from too many compliments?” 

“I like that plan,” Bertholdt replied, leading Reiner towards the table where their friends were waiting. 

“Because you get out of feeling awkward, or cause you get ice cream?” Reiner questioned, one eyebrow arching up suspiciously. 

“A little bit of both,” Bertholdt said, shrugging innocently as they sat down. “But mostly the ice cream.” Reiner gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head, Bertholdt offering him an amused laugh in reply. 

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” Ymir asked abruptly. 

“Bertholdt’s gills,” Reiner answered quickly. 

“What?” Bertholdt exclaimed, scandalized. “Who told you I have gills?” Reiner turned to the brunette in amusement, caught off guard that he would play along with the joke. 

“Reiner, why would you spill your boyfriend’s secrets like that?” Sasha asked in mock astonishment, holding a hand to her chest. 

“I don’t know, I thought he’d be too distracted by ice cream to realize I’d said anything,” the blonde boy answered. Bertholdt laughed again, and Reiner was scared his heart would explode.

“Okay, but really, ice cream,” Jean said almost desperately. “We need some as soon as possible.”

“I’ll be the order monkey,” Connie offered, raising his hand to emphasize his point. “What’s everyone having?”

A list of ice cream flavors were thrown around, Connie writing each one down on his phone before racing off to join the line to the counter. 

“Connie’s sure been fast to be the order monkey recently,” Ymir commented, watching the shorter boy slide his way into the line. 

“I think it’s his new found mobility post-crutches,” Marco said in reply.

“Oh, it definitely is,” Sasha agreed. “He’s _soooo_ happy to be off those things, it’s almost ridiculous.”

“I’m happy for him,” Reiner said, watching Connie as he reached the end of the line and began his wait. “Crutches suck.”

“But you know what doesn’t suck?” Marco posited. “Swim meets.” He swiveled his head dramatically to face Jean, then Bertholdt. “We’re gathered here tonight to celebrate two particular squad members who put on an exemplary aquatic performance tonight…”

“Please don’t say that ever again,” Jean groaned, leaning back in his chair, squeezing his hands over his eyes. 

“What? Exemplary aquatic performance?” Marco asked innocently, leaning closer to Jean. The fair-haired boy, poked him in the cheek. 

“Ew,” Sasha commented, throwing a plastic spoon at them. “Stop being gross. We have to eat at this table.”

“In like ten minutes,” Marco countered. “Cooties only have a lifespan of seven minutes, so I think all of you will live.”

“Anyway, as Marco was attempting to say, three cheers for Jean and Bertholdt and their epic swimming tonight!” Reiner cheered. The table gave a cheer, Jean trying to hide a smile and Bertholdt blushing furiously as his eyes looked down at the table. Reiner smiled just watching him and, without warning, leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Bertholdt glanced up at him, cheeks burning a darker shade of red. 

“Aw, what a good boyfriend,” Ymir cooed, propping her chin up in her hands, elbows firmly planted into the table and eyes batting in the most irritating of ways, breaking the spell around the two of them. 

Reiner fixed her a cold glare. “Who even invited you?” 

“Whoever declared that squad was getting ice cream after you, Marco, and Armin were done watching your boyfriends and Erens swim,” Ymir answered plainly. “And I’m pretty sure that whoever was Armin. Which is kinda lame cause he ditched us.” 

“Hey, he ditched us for a good reason,” Jean chimed in. 

“Annie _is_ hotter than everyone at this table, you are correct,” Ymir nodded. 

“Not what I meant, but okay,” Jean said in reply, clearly not in the mood to have a battle of wits tonight. Reiner didn’t blame him; swimming really took it out of you. Jean looked absolutely exhausted, as did Bertholdt. But no one could say no to ice cream, no matter how tired. 

“And to be fair, he also ditched Reiner and I at the meet,” Marco added, shrugging. “Which was his loss cause we’re really fun at sports events.”

“We start all the fan fights,” Reiner nodded in agreement. Bertholdt laughed softly and Reiner gave him a covert wink. 

“So that was you that started the coup when we won the backstroke,” Jean said with a smile. Marco wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Jean took it as an invitation to rest his head against the brunette’s shoulder. 

Connie returned a moment later with the ice cream and a crazy story about some people in line. His story led into a story about Christa’s crazy neighbors, which led straight into a discussion of birds, that somehow ultimately led to the age-old debate of the pros and cons of the Hogwarts House Cup competition. 

And amongst their arguments over the validity of the fictional rewards program, somewhere along the line, someone dropped the words ‘cutest couple contest.’ Maybe it was when Ymir made a comment about Slytherins deserving to win by sheer cunning, and Christa gave her a long look before poking her in the shoulder and saying “But you’re a Gryffindor.” Or when Sasha and Connie simultaneously said “But Hufflepuffs are _everyone’s_ best friend!” Or maybe when Christa casually stuck a sprinkle from her ice cream on Ymir’s cheek, and the brunette responded by tapping the blonde’s nose with her cone. Somewhere along the line, someone had brought it up. 

And the words had stuck in Reiner’s brain. 

The cutest couple contest was totally unofficial, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a coveted title. The problem was deciding which actions were faked and which were true. If anyone had been watching, they would have seen a table full of incredibly smooth and ridiculously adorable couples. 

And Reiner had been watching. He’d watched Marco and Jean loop arms during the conversation. He’d caught Connie and Sasha making eye contact, (the kind where something telepathic had to be going between them, it was so sincere and sweet,) and playfully stealing each other’s ice cream. He’d watched Ymir’s arm casually slip from Christa’s shoulders down to her waist. He’d seen it all, and desperately wanted a turn. 

It was only in moments like these, when they were surrounded by other people, that Reiner realized just how badly he wanted to be the best boyfriend in the room. He never struggled being romantic or charming with Bertl when they were alone, and he hadn’t had a problem with it in a group before they started dating, nor did he struggle to be overly romantic to annoy the people in the room. But now that they were together, Reiner felt like he’d entered a different sort of game, one in which one wrong move could terminate his happiness forever. Being a boyfriend was much different than trying to be a boyfriend. And, although he’d never admit it to anyone but his mom, Reiner felt helpless. 

At the moment that terrifying thought crossed Reiner’s mind, Bertholdt’s hand reached for his under the table, long fingers carefully wrapping around the blonde’s, his skin warm and soft. All Reiner’s doubts seemed to disappear at his boyfriend’s gentle touch, at least for the moment. He had to be doing something right. 

Bertholdt moved his hand away a moment later for the purpose of getting back to his ice cream. Reiner smirked, reveling in the knowledge that Bertholdt had willingly stopped eating his favorite food to comfort him, even for just a few seconds. The fact that the brunette had even noticed Reiner slipping too far into his thoughts was cause for a swell of admiration in the blonde’s heart. It meant more than Bertholdt would ever know. 

Bertholdt would also never know that Reiner caught him covertly stealing a spoonful of his ice cream as the conversation continued. Smiling to himself, Reiner nudged his cup closer to the brunette, giving him permission to take it. Bertholdt only hesitated for two seconds instead of his usual three. 

*** 

The rest of the night went off without too much sass or sarcasm, and twenty minutes later found Reiner and Bertholdt walking three blocks down Main Street, where the brunette had parked. Main Street was dazzling this time of year, when the world got dark at 5 p.m. and the lights from the shops gave the street a warm glow that scared off the mid-January chill. Holiday lights were still wrapped around bare tree branches, as the owners hadn’t been able to take them off due to snow that had lasted from Christmas to this very weekend. Snow was still piled up by the curb, now black with dirt and exhaust. But it was still there. And there was something magical about that too.

The two boys walked along Main Street in silence, hands clasped tightly, taking in the sights of the city. It was perfectly peaceful. Something they’d never had the chance to enjoy in the Old World. Reiner smiled, squeezing Bertholdt’s hand a little tighter. The brunette squeezed back. Reiner’s heart skipped in his chest. 

On a whim, Reiner unzipped his jacket and silently slipped it off, draping the material over the brunette’s shoulders. Bertholdt started, but settled back after realizing what was happening. His gaze snapped to Reiner, and the brightest smile spread across his lips. The blonde felt his heart skipped again.

“What’s this for?”

Reiner shrugged. “I’m being romantic.”

“It’s not romantic if you have to say it’s being romantic,” Bertholdt pointed out jokingly as they reached his car and filed in. 

“See, you say that, but deep down, I know your romance glands are kicking into overdrive,” Reiner said plainly. 

“Overdrive?” Bertholdt laughed, leveling him a hard stare. “Oh honey, I think you’d be surprised how long it takes to reach overdrive.” Reiner paused as he started to buckle his seatbelt. 

Meeting Bertholdt’s gaze, he paused. “Are you saying I’ve never done anything romantic enough to please the part of your brain that makes you a hopeless romantic?”

“I didn’t say that,” Bertholdt pointed out, twisting the keys in the ignition. “I simply said that this was not one of those times.”

Reiner narrowed his eyes. “Was it close?”

Bertholdt shrugged, barely hiding a smile. “Maybe.” The blonde smiled triumphantly, sitting back in his seat as they pulled out of the parking lot, a gentle country ballad playing from the stereo. 

“What are you gonna do when you get home?” Reiner asked. 

“Probably eat something…”

Reiner laughed, catching the other boy off guard. “You finished my ice cream after yours!”

“Reiner, my body is still shaking from the meet. Look at this.” He held up a hand that was in fact still shaking. 

“It’s cold outside; who’s to say you aren’t just shivering from the cold?” Reiner challenged. 

“Do you even know how many calories I lost tonight?”

“You say lost as if it’s a bad thing,” Reiner said, poking Bertholdt’s flat stomach, (and trying not to blush at the memory of said stomach shirtless.)

“It is a bad thing,” Bertholdt replied, his voice somewhere between a laugh and whine as he recoiled from Reiner’s touch as if it tickled. “Your jacket’s too big on me. How’s it ever going to be comfortably big if I can’t grow anymore?”

“I think that jacket looks perfect on you,” Reiner said. “And I don’t think you need to grow anymore. You’re a tree.” Bertholdt nodded in agreement. “But, I also know how fast you lose calories, and acknowledge your reasoning for eating my ice cream, and I want you to know I am actually okay with it, I just like to give you trouble.”

“I know, that was fun fact number sixty-four,” Bertholdt said. “’I like to make things unnecessarily difficult for those I like.’”

Reiner’s eyes narrowed. “I’m impressed you remembered that.”

Bertholdt’s eyes narrowed in response as a devious grin spread across his lips. “Reiner, I’ve been keeping track of all the fun facts you’ve told me. I’m making a book of them.”

The blonde wasn’t sure if he should believe him or not. Either way, he’d remember this conversation for a long time. “Well, that’s commitment.”

Bertholdt shrugged. “Guess I’m in it for the long haul.”

Reiner grinned. “Boy am I glad to hear that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I sincerely hope you enjoyed it!!


End file.
